A Blasphemer's Account of Dante's Inferno
by LilyScarlett
Summary: A sort of translation of Inferno into more modern text - in case any readers of Inferno need a guide, translation, or anything that makes it easier to understand.


**Canto I**

**In Which the Narrator Meets Wild Animals and Virgil**

Some time during my middle-aged years, I found myself wandering in the woods.

I don't remember how I got there. I seem to remember falling asleep somewhere, on the right path, only to find myself awake in the middle of the woods, with the trail I had been on nowhere to be seen.

Crap. Now how am I supposed to get home?

It's hard to explain just how awful that felt, that experience. I still don't like to think about it. But good things happened because of it. Eventually.

First, though, I wandered around for a while.

Eventually I came across a hill, at the very edge of the valley. The valley shook me a bit, I'll admit. Alright, I was scared. Terrified, actually. I won't explain why. But that hill – somehow I knew it was safe. It glowed with starlight and made me feel better about being lost in god-knows-where.

I turned around to look back at the woods, like a drowning shipwrecked sailor who finally reaches land and turns back to look at the sea. Somehow, I knew that no living person had left the woods before.

At this point you can probably smell the metaphors. Maybe I'd died without realizing it, and the woods were the last stretch before I hit the afterlife. Or maybe I was just seeing the future.

I got to the foot of the hill. It was obvious that I had to climb it. But I'd only taken a few steps before it came.

A leopard. Spotted all over, nimble, agile. She walked straight toward me, leisurely, looking directly at me, a sort of casual "Don't even think about it."

I backed away slowly. There was no reason to disturb her, and there were plenty of other ways to get up the hill. So I circled around the bottom and picked a different place to climb up, but before I could take more than a few steps, she showed up again, walking right in front of me. This happened a few times. I was ridiculously discouraged, when I looked up and it was already dawn. The stars, in the sky since Creation, shone brightly and the sun started rising, coloring the world a gorgeous red-orange.

You couldn't stand under a sunrise like that without feeling at least slightly optimistic.

"Screw this," I thought. "I'm not going to let a leopard stop me. I'll climb that hill no matter what."

As if it had read my mind, a lion appeared just as I finished my thought.

"Oh, crap…"

He came at me, not leisurely like the leopard, but purposefully. There was hunger in his eyes, intense, rabid hunger. And if that wasn't enough, a wolf was sitting a bit behind him, filling the air with a sort of raw fear, panic.

"Oh-crap-oh-crap-oh-crap-oh-crap-oh-crap…"

I guess I wasn't going to be climbing that hill.

Maybe I was a masochist, but I tried a few more times before the animals forced me back into the dark forest, where the sun didn't shine. At this point, I felt like fangirls feel when their computer crashes in the middle of a chapter of an exceptionally good piece of fanfiction, except multiplied by a thousand. Was I crying a little? Maybe. But just a little.

As I ran away from the fricking wolf and lion, I saw someone.

"Help," I called. "Please! Whatever you are, ghost or man."

The figure smiled faintly.

"I'm not a man," he said. "But I was, once. My parents were from Lombard; they lived in Mantua. I lived in Rome, when Augustus was emperor, and we worshipped false gods and lied to each other. But even so, I was a famous poet. Maybe you've heard of me? Aeneas, Anchises' son, gets the hell out of Troy after Ilion goes up in flames during the end of the Trojan War, after the Greeks win? Anyway, why do you keep coming back to this horrible wood instead of climbing the hill? You know, the hill is literally the source of every happy moment you've ever experienced."

"Holy crap, you're _Virgil_?! Like, famous poet Virgil? _Aeneid_ Virgil?! Oh my gosh. I'm your number one most biggest fan. I mean, alright, sorry. Not to sound creepy or anything. But I've read your book _so_ many times; you're like my inspiration – I couldn't have developed my writing style without you, and that's the only reason anyone knows about me." There was something else, too. "Oh, right. Yeah, I was trying to climb the hill, but this huge-ass wolf keeps blocking me. And the hungry lion. And did I mention the leopard? They're scaring the hell out of me; get them away from me. Please."

"Oh. Yeah. They do that." He noticed my desperation. "You'll probably have to try a different way if you want to get out of this wasteland. The animals you're talking about don't let anyone pass them, ever; they're like Gandalf. And they'll eventually just attack you until you die. Food just makes them hungrier. The wolf's really bad – she's evil. She can't control her raging hormones and getting what she wants just makes it worse. She's slept with dozens of other animals and she'll sleep with dozens more until the Hound kills her. The Hound is full of valor, love, and lore. He'll be born between Feltro and Feltro and save Italy, restoring what Camilla died for. He'll chase her through cities far and wide until he thrusts her back down to Hell again, where Satan's envy first unleashed her."

"So, I take it the hill brings happiness, but the wolf is a sin that prevents me from getting there? A temptation? Avarice or lust or something, right?"

"Yes." He paused. "But I'm getting off-track, aren't I? Look, you're clearly lost. Come with me; I'll show you around here. It's a place that'll last forever, and while you're here you'll hear the howlings of despair."

"Fun," I commented.

"Yeah. The spirits here are upset and they'd do anything to die again, permanently this time. But after that I'll show you a happier place, where the people there are content. Because they're burning in flames now, but they're hoping that one day they'll be allowed to join the Blessed. If you want to be one of those, then a soul will guide you. A soul much more pure than me, I'm afraid. That'll be Beatrice. When I leave, I'll leave you with her. I can't actually take you there myself; God doesn't let me take anyone into His kingdom – I'm a criminal; I don't have those rights."

"You? A criminal?"

"I didn't believe in the Christian revelation. He doesn't want me. Anyway, He rules the world, which is a fun job, and everyone who chooses to live in His Heavenly City is happy."

"So… if I'm interpreting this correctly, you'll take me on a tour of hell and then take me to St. Peter's Gate?"

"Yeah, definitely." And I followed Virgil into the dark.


End file.
